


Looking Forward

by Tabi



Category: Kiss x Kiss: Seirei Gakuen
Genre: Community: 31_days, F/M, Graduation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-30
Updated: 2009-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabi/pseuds/Tabi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the morning of her fourth-year graudation, Mirai muses on her time at Seirei Gakuen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Forward

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the 31_days prompt for the 30th of July 2009, "for I have made her every prison be her every step away from me".

It was the morning of their graduation. _Their_ graduation. The graduation that they would take part in _together_.

 _Of course_ , Mirai thought to herself, _if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here_.

She stood outside of the Student Council building; it was too early for anybody to be here - too early _really_ , but Mirai suspected that there was _one_ person here. Because Yoshikuni had been the same, all those years ago. Because the Student Council took themselves far too seriously, and it was too early but Makoto would be here, she knew that more than anything. Perhaps one of the others. Ichii, perhaps. One of those _others_ , maybe. After her experience, Mirai hadn't bothered to learn names. That was Makoto's business. That was just what he _did_.

Standing there as the sky shook off what remained of the night previous, Mirai knew that the her of four years ago would have been overjoyed to think that she might have been able to graduate at the same time as her _beloved_ Makoto-kun. Nevermind the circumstances, just that thought...! Of course, nobody was ever held back from school for a _good_ reason. She was academically sound and it was down on record as being in no way her own fault, but she knew it was. She _knew_ it was. She'd orchestrated this. She'd decided, way back then, that it was worth anything to try to get closer to him, to try to understand him better, to cross the distance that seemed to grow between them the moment Makoto stepped foot onto the Student Council. _Had_ it been worth it? She wondered.

She turned her back on the Student Council building. If Makoto was there or if he wasn't, it was no business of hers anymore. She made her way towards the track area.

Of course, she knew that had she done nothing, she would always have been left wondering. Now, there was no question. (Perhaps a little mystery was a good thing. Such a thing, however, could only be said in hindsight.)

They would graduate. The school would mourn the loss of a stunning Student Council leader, the girls would mourn this incarnation of KISS, the cycle would progress as ever it did. In her case, she had passed her exams and had got accepted to the university she'd most wanted to graduate into. (Sakura would be waiting for her there.) By all accounts, this day was supposed to be one of celebration. Sadness and nostalgia for those days past, but holding their heads up to look forward to the days to come. ...Something like that.

And Makoto would make whatever speech he'd prepared. He'd welcome the incoming first-year students selected to be part of that unforgivable process. They would blush and smile and say _what an honour_ , not realising what it _really_ was. Would it be the same for them? Mirai wondered. Makoto was graduating, after all. Of course, a lot of people had thought it would end when Yoshikuni graduated, back when _that_ was. It might have done, were it not for Makoto. Would there be somebody else to follow in that line? Perhaps. Mirai hugged herself tightly. _It's nothing to do with me anymore._

_It was never anything to do with me._

Makoto would make his speech and the students would look to him as they had over these years, leader of the Student Council and idol of the student body. Of course. Of _course_. That was the life of the leader of the Student Council, wasn't it? All of those innocent girls of the school, allowed to perpetuate their dreams as far as the Student Council encouraged.

They encouraged a lot more than that, too.

The school would mourn losing a bright young pupil and the student body would miss its idol, though there would always be more to take the place of those lost. They would look to him and see his smile and never know, Mirai knew, precisely what Aihara Makoto was _really like_.

Few people ever would. (Exactly how Makoto wished it.)

Mirai would sit in the audience and watch him and _know_. She would know, and feel jealous of those around her who were blissfully ignorant. Feel jealous of those who could have a carefree graduation. She would look forward to leaving Seirei, but didn't know if she would ever be able to look back on her time nostalgically. Most of those she'd known had graduated the year beforehand, not that she'd had the will to care. Back then, everything had been Makoto.

Now, everything was still Makoto. Everything had always been Makoto, but now so _different_ to then.

He was cruel.

She knew this now. More than anything, Makoto was _cruel_. She never would have believed it four years ago, but believed it more than anything now.

Sakura had sent a text message a few days previous, _do you want me to be there?_... Mirai had wholeheartedly considered it, but in the end decided against it. It would be too much for Sakura to come down from her university just for something like this, and then she'd miss lectures and have to catch up and it would cost money and _no, you don't have to. It's fine._

_It's fine. I'm fine._

She'd coped with the last two years, which made a day like this a breeze in comparison. Indeed, didn't this mark the official date of it ending? It all ending? All of it?

Mirai stood by the track, rocking on her heels. She stretched out her arms in front of her and then raised them to the sky, like in all those lessons over the years. There was nobody to hear, but she spoke nonetheless.

"... It's _over_."

Except, it wasn't.

She knew it wasn't.

She knew it could never be over, not while she _remembered_. And it _had_ been awful and it _had_ been horrible

and

parts of it had been exhilarating and exciting and terrible and wonderful and

as long as she remembered

_it would never be over_

Every time her thoughts came to rest, she would think of the boy that she'd loved and what he'd turned into.

For those moments, she would feel a profound sadness.

She would then try to think of something else.

(Always moving on.)


End file.
